Under My Skin
by Angelique Daemon
Summary: Amarant reflects on his time spent with a certain Dragon Knight throughout the game, and afterward. AmarantxFreya


Under My Skin

AmarantxFreya

**Title:** Under My Skin

**Pairing**: Amarant/Freya (don't beat me!)

**Rating:** R (language)

**Author Notes: **Um... I'm sorry, but after replaying Final Fantasy IX and watching these two interact... I couldn't help myself. There's no porn... because I don't know if I _could_ write that, since it's a hell of a lot closer to furry porn than I'm comfortable with. Anyway, this is all written from Amarant's point of view, with the events of the game reflected upon, leading up to a year after the ending... and by that mean I mean a year after Zidane's reappearance. Anyway, enjoy?

The first time they had met had been in Alexandria, and Amarant had been spoiling for a fight. The need for it had coursed through his veins so strongly, he could almost smell it rising from his skin. On the docks he had run into her, literally. He was never sure if she had recognized him, or if she had simply felt the need for a fight as badly. She had not excused herself, or made any apology after the collision, and had simply turned to leave. Amarant had been the aggressor, as he always was, snapping and growling at her until her anger rose and she responded in kind... it had not taken long, which was why he thought she might have been looking for a confrontation as well. The long spear had been withdrawn from the sheath at her back with practiced ease and alacrity, and he had grinned fiercely as battle lust rose in him... until those stupid bitch guards had interrupted... and then Zidane's simian ass had jumped between them. She had been easier to talk down, perhaps because she was relieved to see the thief alive and well. The monk had been more difficult, but then he always was. In the end he had left the monkey boy with the rat-faced bitch and wandered off on his own.

Traveling as a group had rubbed the redhead the wrong way. He was used to solitude, and quiet, except when he went seeking a fight, and it was nigh impossible to find either. When faced with the choice of the fainting princess, the loud-mouthed knight, the simian thief, the loud hyper little girl, the shy mage, the annoying frog-eater, and the rat-faced bitch... he had taken the rat-faced bitch. At least she was quiet, and not in a way that said she was constantly worrying that he might accidentally step on her, like Vivi. He appreciated the quiet... and after fighting together he acknowledged her strength.

In Treno... in Treno she had asked him about his past. It had caught him off-guard. She was so quiet, and then she suddenly had a random bout of curiosity? He had not been expecting that... and when she said that she honestly wanted to know about him, that had pushed the redhead even further out of his element. He had answered more for the novelty of being asked, and out of curiosity to see what she had to say about it... And then she had laughed. That rat-faced bitch had _laughed_ at him! Well, that showed him for opening his mouth, didn't it? He had wanted to punch her right in her rodent face as she laughed at his misfortune. He had scowled fiercely at her, but it had done nothing, other than make her shake her head. He had left her, still chuckling, in the front of the auction house, hoping that she would get mugged... though he knew that she was more than a match for any pathetic street thug the City of Eternal Night could produce.

Despite that incident, they continued to fight together, and even spend their down time together. They rarely talked, but once in a while one or the other would feel verbose, and the other would stand in silence and listen. He had his moments, but they were rare in an already unusual situation. Usually it was her. He wondered sometimes if she simply wanted to speak to someone that would listen, but not offer any input. Perhaps without the worry of pity, or valiant promises to help, she felt free enough to express herself. So he heard about Burmecia, a country he had never been to, and never cared about, but she spoke of it with such passion he could almost feel the chill in the air, and the rain on his face. He also heard about Sir Fratley, the best, bravest, smartest, most talented Dragon Knight in all the world. He heard about the man's supposed quest for strength... and could not help but snort at it. When she glared at him from under her helmet, he had sneered, "It was an excuse," he said, "he either wanted to leave the country, or leave someone, but either way, it was just a way for him to escape. He sounds like a coward." He had been prepared for the blow that came his way and dodged it easily. He watched her stalk off and felt... unsettled.

The next break they had gotten from their travels, he had lain in wait for her, holding up a wall along a path he knew she would take. He knew she must have heard him standing there, those long ears could not have just been for show, but she walked past him without acknowledging his presence. "Left my home country," he said, knowing that she would pause if he invoked her curiosity, "Looking for money, looking for a fight, looking for who the hell knows what. When I got to Treno, I settled down there, thinking it would be the best place to find fights... and took the security job to give me an excuse to beat people to a pulp legally."

She had paused when he spoke and then turned to listen to him. When he stopped talking she had simply nodded, "It's a fool that seeks battle for battle's sake," she said, and he could see the corners of her muzzle draw up in a smirk when he scowled. Stupid bitch. Clearly she thought he was just one of the team with whom she could banter. He was the one who stalked off that time. Who the hell did she think she was to talk to him that way? Zidane he let slide, because he owed the little monkey one, but _that_ rat-faced bitch...

He avoided her for a time after that... as much as he could, anyway, when they had to fight together most of the time. The others were too wrapped up in their quest for vengeance, which suited Amarant just fine. He did not want to have to put up with the others nagging him about being nicer to the bitch. Still... he could not deny her prowess in battle, or her outstanding skills. Sometimes, for no reason he could really understand, he remembered a story an old sailor had told when in his cups. The old man had said that the phrase, 'two ships passing in the night' was a crock... because the _only_ reason they missed one another was due to the vigilance of the crew, and the helmsman. If left to their own devices, two ships passing in the night would collide as the waves pushed them towards the calmer water between and eventually together. Why he was reminded of that, he did not know... but it made him want a drink.

As their journey continued, even Amarant's temper cooled, and he once more found himself in the Dragon Knight's company even outside of battle. It still took a little while before they began talking again... but when they did, it was her that started it. The monk kept his mouth shut, and simply listened to whatever she had to tell him, offering no comments of his own. He learned more about Sir Fratley, even though he did not want to, including the knight's disappearance, and subsequent memory loss. She must have _really_ felt the need to get it off her chest to tell _him_ of all people, but he listened. He did not pat her hand, or tell her that it would be alright, or try to come up with solutions, he simply listened without the offer of pity, or sympathy. Perhaps she had simply felt that she could not talk to the others about it without appearing to seek comfort. Who knew?

"I left my home, swearing never to return until I'd found my love," she said bitterly, "and then I returned home in time to see it destroyed... and found my love only to find out he knew me not. Even if I cannot blame the latter on Kuja, he took the last thing that was precious to me. I left home for love, and now I'm without either."

Her head had snapped up when the monk snorted in amusement, and even with the helmet in the way, he could tell her eyes had narrowed. He lifted his head and actually looked over at her, something he rarely did, and raised a brow... though it would be hard to tell under his dreadlocks, "I became a security guard to beat people up legally... and got framed as an outlaw by a thief, without blow one. Irony often strikes below the belt."

He had watched the tension leave her shoulders, as she looked away, "I suppose you're right," she murmured, and walked away.

It was not long after that conversation that they had been captured by Kuja. He had listened intently as the names were called, frowning when hers was mentioned and not his. What was going on? Why were three names called... Ah, the girly bastard had likely decided to send Zidane on an errand. How pathetic, to be caught and used as leverage to make the monkey play step and fetch it. He had been wholly unsurprised when they were double crossed, and the lavender-haired freak had sprung a stupid time-release trap on them. He _had_ been surprised when the frog Regent got them out. He had also been surprised when he spent half the time running through the castle wondering about his partner in quiet... Not because he cared, of course, but because it would be difficult to find someone else that did not feel the need to fill silence with meaningless chatter. He also refused to acknowledge the relief that poured through him when he saw her standing with the others, looking a little tired, but otherwise mostly unscathed. He had scowled slightly, but nodded, acknowledging her battler prowess to be able to return.

After all the double crossing, they ended up back in Lindblum, and he had slipped off after their informative meeting, to a little back alley shanty that served drinks. The scenery was not much, but the beer was good, and that was what mattered. Of course it was nothing compared to what they would have served at the castle, but a look at the servants had told him not to waste his breath. Unless directly ordered by the Regent, they would have given him swill. To hell with them. He had been sitting on a crate someone left out as a seat, when a familiar shadow fell over him... he did not even need to look over to see the coral jacket to know who it was. He had taken a sip of his beer and then reached out with his foot and nudged another crate out for her.

She had taken the offered seat without a word, and in fact had remained silent even as he called over the stall keeper and ordered her a beer. The silence continued as she took a sip of her beverage, and for once, the redhead had been annoyed at the _lack_ of speech. If she thought she could out-wait him, then she had another thing coming! A few more minutes passed before she had finally cleared her throat, "Amarant," she said slowly as though she were trying to choose her words carefully, "I am glad that you..." she had frowned slightly then, as if rethinking her words, "kept Eiko and the others safe in Kuja's palace."

His eyes had narrowed at that. Had there been any doubt that he would? He had shot a glare at her out of the corner of his eye. Was that what he was now? The Flaming Amarant, reduced to a babysitter? Where did that rat-faced bitch get off? She was glad that he had kept the party safe? Well she could go fuck herself! So could the little chimp. He was _done_ with this crew! He would show them! He did not need any of them, and they were fools for wasting their time playing happy family. He had stood so abruptly, the crate that had served as his chair flew back, and after dropping enough gil on the counter, he turned and stalked off. Had he bothered to turn around, he might have seen the confused and dismayed look that followed him.

At Ipsen's Castle, he had stormed off, all headstrong and cocksure. As he had known he would he reached the central chamber first, and had treated Zidane and the rest of the party, her included, to a nasty sneer. Working alone he was better than their precious team! He did not need _them_... and he sure as _hell_ did not need _her_! The sneer had turned to a smirk as he brushed past her, having noticed her narrow her eyes even under the helmet. _'Take that, you bitch.'_ With all the confidence in the world, he had left the room and began making his way back to the entrance. So busy gloating over his triumph, he had not seen the trap that felled him... and thus he had been left in a heap, swearing as he bled and tried not to die like a... rat in a trap.

It had been Zidane, of course, who had come to his rescue, by himself the monk had noticed, and helped him out of the dungeon. Stupid little monkey... Not that he had not been grateful not being left there to die. In fact, in a way he had been _quite_ grateful to see the thief's round face and inquisitive blue eyes peering at him from bangs of gold, rather than an elongated muzzle curled up in a smirk, as brilliant green eyes peered at him out of the shadow of a helm. Oh of course he had huffed, and grumbled, but he let the monkey help him up and out of the castle. The trip had been ridiculous, only Zidane was dumb enough to come rushing back in with only a single potion to his name, and so the petite thief had been forced to try to support the redhead's weight half the time. All the climbing had been _agony_, but Amarant had not complained... he had simply berated himself for being a fool. The walk down the steps outside had been a lesson in both pain and rage. The upside of traveling with two white mages meant that once they saw you were wounded, the wounds did not last long... the downside was that one of them was a talkative little brat with a voice like a cable car whistle.

After they had healed him, he had announced, with some reluctance, that he would officially join their crew... and that _maybe_ Zidane was right about teamwork... _**Maybe**_. His eyes had traveled to her during his, for him, speech. He was secure in the knowledge that his hair hid his eyes completely, but somehow she seemed to know that he was looking at her, because a smug little smirk had curled her lips. That rat-faced _bitch_! He curled his giant hands into fists so tight his knuckles popped. He wanted to punch her in the face _so_ badly right then. To pound that infuriating smirk right off her goddamn rodent muzzle... The others assumed he was pissed off by Zidane's teasing and left him alone. She had to have known the real reason for his annoyance, because she looked over at him, and her face had gotten even smugger if it was possible.

After that, they had made their way to the elemental shrines. Amarant had not spoken to anyone, after that speech, keeping everything to himself, fuming silently. A few short side trips to tie up loose ends had done nothing to loosen his tongue. That had not stopped her, though, No, _she_ had continued to seek him out, and spend their downtime with him, seeming to enjoy the quiet, and not at all notice his anger. Perhaps... perhaps she had grown used it, and no longer cared? Bitch. After dropping of Eiko and Dagger at the Water Shrine, they headed for the Fire Shrine... and it was not a big surprise who the chosen team was, especially considering that the shrine would need to be jumped into. Still the monk had scowled at Zidane, "Do I _have_ to be partnered with _her_?" he had growled, annoyed at having to use the shiny new teamwork concept on one he _knew_ was still laughing at him.

The blonde had simply smirked up at him, "I'm sorry. Would you have rather gone with Eiko?" he tormented. Amarant had growled, but left it at that at the sound of her footsteps. He was sure she had heard, those long ears kept under her helm were for more than show, after all. Still, she had not commented, and they had descended into the shrine. The fighting that had gone on in the shrine, just the two of them, cutting their way through the underlings... it had been like a salve to his pride. He was not diminished, and she had not been implying that he was... she had just returned his smugness in kind... annoying rat. By the time they had stood before the fiend, so spoiling for a fight, he had felt to urge to... express his... contriteness? Apologize for what she had overhead? Show her that he... what? Enjoyed fighting by her side? Maybe. Whatever he had been trying to tell her by speaking to the fiend, he had known she understood when she said his name softly in surprise. It had been a wonderful battle. Him attacking from below, keeping the monster's attention and keeping it pinned as she rained death from above... A real blood-pumping, heart-thumping battle. They had worked together perfectly, as though they had been partners for decades instead of months.

The trip to Terra had left them with more time to spend together... not that they spoke, or at least not much. When Zidane had been in trouble, however, they had once more worked in perfect tandem to help the thief, even if he had slumped off, muttering at them to leave him alone... which pissed the redhead off, after all that teamwork tripe. When he had called the monkey on it and been told to shut up, she had caught his arm. It had been the first time that had touched, or at least the first time their skin had touched. When he looked at her, the surprise in his eyes hidden by his unruly dreadlocks, she had simply shaken her head. Her hand was strong, it had to be to wield that lance, and larger than a human's, though of course smaller than his. Despite the strength and size, her hand was soft, oh he could feel faint calluses on her palm, but nothing like one would expect. Maybe it was the difference in hide, perhaps her skin was simply tougher and more resistant to calluses. The removal of her had had snapped him out of his reverie, as well as her muttered apology. She must have though he was annoyed that she had touched him. Some stupid part of him had wanted to reach out and put her hand back on his arm... but he had ignored it with both hands, grunted, and turned to release Vivi and Eiko from the trap in which they had been caught.

After their return to Gaia, and the discovery of the continent covered in Mist, their downtime had all but disappeared. They rushed to finish up any last minute preparations, and once more attempt to tie up loose ends. There was a moment though... one last visit to Treno to turn in a coin in order to get some cash and equipment. The monk had left the group and gone to stand by the water's edge outside the synthesis shop. She had joined him. Neither had spoken, what could be said? They simply stood in the City of Eternal Night, and watched the reflected lights ripple in the water, two silent warriors making their peace, should the worst happen. He did not know who moved first, but after what seemed like hours, they had both turned to the other and reached out. His huge hand had completely swallowed hers, but he had checked his strength, and neither hurt for the brief shake. Though neither entertained the thought of defeat, neither were ignorant of the possibility. Two warriors, two comrades, got their goodbyes out of the way before they ever reached the final battle. There were no regrets that way.

Memoria had been hell, for Amarant especially. Traveling not only through his own memories, but the planet's consciousness while the monkey talked to a voice in his head? To say it sucked was an understatement. He was almost _relieved_ to get to Kuja... even after the bastard had struck the final blow, rendering them all incapacitated. Then there had been another... another enemy threatening to destroy the world. Of their skills... he had known who would be better served in that battle. "Try not to screw it up," he had admonished as he relinquished his energy to her, giving up to her the last of himself he had to give. He had distantly heard the sound of her stirring before he had disappeared from the world... or so it had seemed. Waking up outside the Iifa Tree had been a fucking relief, that went without saying... even if they had lost Zidane. He had looked around, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of who else they might have lost... but he saw her with the loud-mouthed knight, holding back the weeping princess before she could do something stupid. He had reached out with a hand himself to catch the tiny summoner as she also tried something stupid.

The victory celebration had been a quiet somber affair, none of the group feeling like participating very much. He had found himself in her company again, dwelling at the edges, almost in the shadows. They stood silently for a long time, until she had spoken softly, "What will you do now?"

The redhead had shrugged, "Dunno. Go back to bounty hunting, I guess." He had intended to leave it there, but his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, "You?"

She had been quiet for moments that had seemed like days before she replied as softly as she had first spoken, "I am going home. I made a promise to the soldiers, and..." she had faltered for a moment before continuing, "and the faint memory of duty brought him once, perhaps it will draw him again." She had glared at his derisive snort, and curled her hands into fists, "I don't expect _you_ to understand," she had snapped, "You're the Man with No Soul, after all, the almighty Flaming Amarant, the rock that needs no one. If you'd a heart in your chest... well it would probably be someone else's that you were trying to eat!" she finished sourly, and then turned and left.

"Stupid rat-faced bitch," he had called disdainfully after her, feeling the need to lash out once more, though this time the thought of hitting _her_ had never even crossed his mind. He had punched the wall instead. With that he had left... it had not been a good note to end on, but that was how it went for him.

He had seen her again, two years later. Some big stupid party in Alexandria, either to celebrate the anniversary of the princess', or rather the queen's coronation, or the coronation itself or... something... Either way they had waited for it until the city was in one piece again, and he had thought that was a smart move. He had been on his way to watch some stupid play when he had heard her footsteps even in the multitude, and caught the scent rain and damp fur... not unpleasant, like a wet animal, but cool and faintly musky, combined with the scent of the dragon hide she wore. Gods, he had remembered her _scent_! What was he, an animal?

"Amarant," her voice had been quiet, like always, and yet it had cut through all of the noise of the street, easily finding its way to his ear, "I wanted..." she had faltered into silence then and simply walked at his side as they approached the theatre. They had taken their seats, and let the silence continue all through the play. Even at its conclusion, and Zidane's big reveal, they said not a word to each other. They had applauded along with everyone else, and even the redhead had felt moved... though he kept his response to the applause. He had watched as the others of their group closed in on the happy couple, but he had remained apart, always apart.

He had been surprised when she sought him out after that. He had been drinking in a nice little back alley tavern with good alcohol obtained by questionable means. As he had taken a sip of something made by fermenting Dead Peppers, her shadow had fallen over him. Like the first time this had happened, he did not need to look over and see her coral armor to know it was her, and he had kicked out a stool for her, and then waved the bartender over. She had ordered a plain ale, which was probably the best bet to order in this place. He had watched her from the corner of his eye as she took a deep sip, her slender throat working to swallow the liquid. When she had set the mug down, it had sounded empty, and he wondered what it was that she wanted to say that had caused the need for such a drink. After a moment, she had turned to him, "Amarant," she said quietly, her eyes lost under her helm, so he had not idea where she was really looking... but he was sure it was not directly at him, "We... I..." he had watched her features draw down into a frown, "I behaved in a beastly manner upon our parting, and... said some things that I did not mean and should not have said. I... beg your forgiveness. I would not have us part on bad terms."

She sucked at apologies, the redhead had noted as he took a sip of his drink. Or rather she tried too hard to be both formal and sincere for it to come out properly. He had know what she meant though, and in a rare show of... camaraderie perhaps, he had reached out one giant hand and put it on her shoulder giving it the slightest of squeezes. "Forget it," he said in all his eloquence, "never happened."

Her sigh of relief had been almost too soft to hear, "I am glad to hear that," she said, her voice genuine. When she next spoke, he had heard the smile in her voice, "I was right," she informed him, "Duty brought him back to Burmecia. He has been helping us rebuilding, and protecting the city once more..." she had gripped the bar, and he had almost been able to feel the excitement roll off her, "We've... well, he's becoming reacquainted with me... and he's returning my affections..." she had laughed then, and it was a happy sound, but underneath that, he had detected a forced note to it, "How many people get to find out that if their mates could do things all over again, they would still choose them?"

The monk had shrugged, "Dunno," he said, and then had added on a whim, "Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?" She had stiffened at that comment, and he had known it had not been wishful thinking that had caught that forced note. Still... he had reached out and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, "I'm a bastard," he said simply by way of apology, "Let me pay for your drinks... Freya." He had watched her from the corner of his eye as she turned to stare at him in surprise. He had never said her name before, and more often than not had simply called her 'you' or 'rat' when he really wanted to be specific. She had relaxed after the initial surprise and nodded, seeming to take his apology. They had remained at the little back alley tavern, drinking in silence for hours more before finally parting ways. She had wished him good health, and he had nodded, and waved a hand vaguely too indicated he wished the same for her. It had been much better than their last parting and nothing had been punched. He had thought that would be the end of it. Freya would get the fairy tale ending she deserved, and the troll would crawl back under the bridge.

Another year passed after that, and Amarant had thought of the Dragon Knight fondly... Ha! Yeah, right! He thought about her all the time, just as he had after their first parting of ways. She... That rat-faced bitch was in his _blood_! She was under his skin, and she _tormented_ him. More than once in the year that passed, he had forced himself _not_ to hunt down Sir Forgetful and feed him his own lance. There had even been a couple times when he found himself setting out with every intention of heading to Burmecia to do just that, when he had come to his senses, and then forced himself to travel in the opposite direction. There were times when he _swore_ that he smelled her... only to see a Burmecian refugee that had not gone home, or a Burmecian trader. It was maddening. To escape it, he had revisited the Outer Continent... hell, he had even found ways to the Lost Continent and the Forgotten Continent. Deguerro had provided _some_ distraction despite the Cleryan oracle that had taken up residence there. Perhaps it had not bothered the redhead because, despite the damp fur smell brought about by the waterfalls, the oracle had smelled of books, and ink and dust instead of fresh rain.

His wandering eventually took him back to Treno, despite his bounty and reputation. Treno was where criminals and scum hung out, after all, so there was no better place for him. He sat at the tavern/inn in the slums, and nursed a beer, trying to keep his mind off... everything. Unlike the other patrons, he did not lift his head when the door opened, what did he give a shit who else was entering this hell hole? He kept his head down even at the murmur that went through the tavern. He did not give a shit. It could be fucking Kuja himself, and he would have simply continued to drink. He still did not look up when a shadow fell over him... not even when he caught the scent of rain, damp fur and dragon hide. It was probably just his imagination, he told himself. The person standing beside him, no one really ever stood _over_ him, could not possibly be the person he so desperately wanted it to be. The person did not move, and he simply drank his beer, the scene stretching out until he finally ran out of beer to drink. He set the mug down and signaled for the bartender. Gods, he could _swear_ he saw coral in the corner of his vision... How much had he had to drink? Not _that_ damn much... maybe someone had drugged his booze in the hopes of taking him in for the reward.

The person beside him snorted, finally breaking the silence and pulled out a stool, taking a seat next to the monk. There was the tapping of a nail, he refused to entertain the idea that it had been a claw causing that noise, on the bar and when the bartender showed up, he had two mugs. The pair sat silently the redhead refusing to believe, even when he saw a large, clawed grey hand partially covered by a coral sleeve grip the handle of one of the mugs. They looked at the drinks... they drank the drinks. The pair tapped the bar, and more drinks appeared. "You're a bastard," said the voice he had longed to hear, the voice that had haunted his thoughts and invaded his dreams. They looked at the drinks... they drank the drinks.

"I told you that already," he finally rumbled quietly, tapping at the bar again for the next round.

He heard the sound of her hair swish over her jacket, indicating that she shook her head, "You're a bastard because you're _right_, damn you," there was venom in her voice, but he could hear a hint of the multitude of emotions it was covering. "He does not _know_ me... not even after three years. His memory _still_ hasn't returned... and the Freya he loves now is not the Freya he knew... it's not the Freya I _am_!" she pounded the bar in anger, "He knows the devoted Dragon Knight, bound by duty and honor! The Dragon Knight that has helped rebuild our country. The Dragon Knight..." she punched the bar again, "The Dragon Knight that stays safely in town and leaves the defense of the realm to others because she's too _important_," she spat the word like a curse, "to pick up a lance and head out to the front lines! He said he'd protect me... _He_ would protect _me_!" that came out and a half scream of frustration and anger, and hurt, and resulted in half the patrons paying their tab and leaving quickly. "Like _I_ need a _protector_!" she pounded the bar, "Have I _ever_ needed a protector before?"

Though he was unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, Amarant was starting to worry that her hand would break before the bar, so he answered, "No, Freya. The only thing you have ever needed was a partner to share the load." She fell quiet at that. They looked at the drinks... they drank the drinks. Still, the monk had been watching her out of the corner of his eye for her little emotional display. She was flushed under her helmet, her emerald eyes burning bright under the influence of both anger, and the booze. He heard her slightly labored breathing, though her armor and the coat over it hid the rise and fall of her chest. His answer seemed to mollify her somewhat, and a little of the tension seemed to slip out of her, her ramrod straight posture relaxing slightly. He pushed his luck, "You're a rat-faced bitch," he smirked into his drink as he heard her hiss in indignation, "You've tormented me for three years, while you've been chasing after your coward." He waited, ready to dodge a potential blow, but when none came his way, he continued, "You had your fairy tale ending, _my lady_," the title was laced with sarcasm, "so why are you prodding the troll out from under his bridge?"

She glared at him, her posture perfect once more, righteous anger rolling off her in waves... she looked so goddamn _alive_! _So_ much more alive and vibrant than she had when last he saw her. The rest of the patrons left at that point, wanting nothing to do with the Flaming Amarant, and the Dragon Knight Freya. "I was wrong to apologize in Alexandria," she hissed angrily, "You _are_ a heartless, soulless bastard!" She shot to her feet, her stool clattering to the ground, "I was a fool for coming here! I just thought..." she faltered and then shook her head, "I thought you'd understand. I should have known better!" She turned to leave.

As though it had a will of its own, one of the redhead's giant hands had shot out, and grabbed her wrist, his grip completely unbreakable, but gentle enough not to hurt her. He surged to his feet, his stool toppling to the floor as well as he tugged on her arm and pulled the Burmecian against his bulk. He moved his hands to her shoulder, holding her completely stationary, and making it impossible for her to reach for her lance, "If I'm a heartless, soulless bastard, then it's because _you_ took them!" he snarled at her, "I didn't _want_ to know you! Hell I didn't even want to _travel_ with you! But there you were. I couldn't fucking _escape_ you! Every time I sought quiet, you were there. Every time I sought battle, you were there. No matter where I looked, you were like a... a fucking pink splash against every single backdrop possible. I can't get you out of my _head_ woman! I've been tormented by you, and your spectre when you weren't personally there to do it!" he wanted to shake her so badly he could _taste_ it... but he refrained, "But you went off to chase your fairy tale ending, even though you _knew_ it wouldn't work! You _knew_ in Alexandria you were chasing shadows!"

"I had to _try_!" Freya cut in, roaring back at the giant as no one had ever done, not a trace of fear in her voice or posture, despite the grip of the giant hands that looked like they could break her in half with a simple snap of their fingers, "I _loved_ him, Amarant! I loved him, and I lost him! When I thought I might get him back, I had to _try_!" she sneered up at the monk, "You say I have your heart and soul? Once upon a time, he had mine! I at least chased my dream... What the _fuck_ stopped you, coward?"

That made the redhead pause. He had never heard the soft-spoken Dragon Knight swear, and it took him aback, but only for a moment. He answered her sneer with one of his own, "I _told_ you, you rat-faced bitch, the princess gets her happily ever after, and the troll returns to his home under the bridge!"

"So the almighty Flaming Amarant believes in fairy tales?" she shot back at him derisively.

He snorted, "Fuck no. Fairy tales are for babies, and noble ladies..." he winced when she kicked him in the shin. Damn, he had been so worried about cutting off access to her lance, he had forgotten her feet could be weapons. Fair was fair... he shook her, but only once, and gently... for him... "I wanted you to be happy, you selfish, inconsiderate rat-faced bitch! _That_ was all that was important!"

She punched him that time, in the thigh since she could not move her arms enough to hit anywhere more interesting, and there was not much power behind it either. "Well what if I dragged you out from under your bridge so I _could_ be happy?" she roared, "What if I've been thinking about you, and missing you, and wishing you to see your face, even at a distance? What if I've been praying you would show up, and fight, either against or with me, I don't care? What if I've been craving your presence? What if I got sick of pretending to be someone I'm not, and followed all the rumors I had heard of your presence until I finally found you here? What if I don't want to part ways with you again? What do you think about _that_, Mr. Troll?"

Amarant stared down at her a moment, before reaching up and pulling her helmet off roughly and tossing it aside, so he could actually see her entire face for a change. Her face was flushed and her eyes burned up at him from under the bangs the removal of her helmet had knocked into her face. Shit, she was _serious_! _'Don't do it, Amarant,'_ his good sense told him, _'this affair won't go so well... You never can win here. Wake up you fool, and face reality. You'll lose her, for good.'_ But he had already lost her, had he not? And now she was back, right? Wasn't there some drivel about loving something and letting it go, and if it came back to you, it was meant to be? Not that he believe that sentimental bullshit... But she was standing right there, glaring up at him with burning emerald eyes. Shit...

He slid his hands from her shoulder, and his huge arms wrapped around her slender body with a gentleness even the monk had been unsure he possessed, and he held her. After no more than a heartbeat, he felt her arms rise and wrap around him in return. Goddamn it... the rat-faced bitch had gotten under his skin... and now that she had come to his arms, he would never let her go... because he liked her under his skin.


End file.
